


Just A Dream (But It Feels So Real)

by QueenoftheWallflowers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bardo is a prison, Bellamy steals more of Gabriel cardigans, Clarke moves Bellamy into her room not questions asked, Clarke steals Bellamy's cardigans, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Happy Ending, Healing, Mind Manipulation, Real not Real, Smut, Soulmates Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, The 100 (TV) Season 7 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheWallflowers/pseuds/QueenoftheWallflowers
Summary: Bellamy loves Clarke, he loves the way she looks when she's on top of him and he loves the way she looks under him. She feels so alive, so real.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 32
Kudos: 127





	1. Just A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> TW: for the end, not graphic. it's mild mind games/ experiment- (think mount weather). I will explain more at the bottom

Blue eyes, the same color as her shirt, look down at him and Bellamy’s hand runs through her long blonde hair and down her back.  
Then they slip under her shirt, his fingers dancing up her sides.  
She laughs, leaning down to press her lips to his, her knees on either side of him.  


She may be small but she’s strong, always has been.  
She’s one of the few not afraid to challenge him and he likes that.  
He likes when she looks at him, a hint of challenge in her eyes, a tilt of her chin, a smirk on her lips.  
But he likes having her challenge him in bed a lot more.  
He likes having her in his bed, her tucked in his arms as he plays with her hair and she traces his freckles, or her under him, fingers gripping his shoulders, legs around his waist, or her on top of him, her soft skin under his fingers, the look on her face as she throws her head back, a moan spilling from her lips..  
He likes the way she looks at him, a softness in her eyes that clashes with the fierceness of her nails on his skin and the way she kisses him, teeth tugging on his lips, skimming his skin as he thrusts into her, his hands gripping her hips, lips near her ear as he whispers, telling her how pretty she looks, how good she feels, how much he loves her.  
He likes her close, after having spent so much time without her, he likes having her in his arms pressed to him, a reminder that she is his.  


His hands grip her hips and as she pulls away he flips them over, her under him, hair strewn over the pillow, blue eyes dark with lust, pink lips parted.  
He presses a kiss to the corner of her lips before he moves downward much to her displeasure..  
He scatters kisses her across her collarbone, tongue lapping at the small hollow there before he ducks his head downward towards her breasts.  
Her blue henley is unbuttoned and her chest heaves as she eagerly waits for him to make a move.  
She’s well aware of his fondness for her tits.  


He likes it like this, where there is no rush and he can take his time with her.  
When he can kiss every inch of her until she’s withering under him, her nails digging into his skin, legs clamped around his waist, his name spilling from her lips, her hips meeting his..  
Or if she’s on top, the fast pace she sets, the way she looks, like a goddess riding him, hair flying, tits bouncing, the look on her face as he reaches between her legs to rub her clit.  
And the noises she makes?  
It's a miracle that no one hears them.  
She will muffle her moans into his neck or bite her lip until she can't anymore and his name comes tumbling from her lips.  
He loves it.  


He nudges her shirt with his nose, his lips mouthing at the top part of her breast before he makes his way down to the valley between them.  
He keeps going, the feel of her fingers in his hair urging him on.  
He nips at her skin and she arches her back and he while he loves the blue henley he has the sudden urge to rip off her, to feel her skin under his fingers and see her.  
He moves back and pulls her up to a sitting position and she straddles him quickly, kissing him, her hands in his hair, her hips moving in small circles.  
He pulls away, reaching for the hem of her blue henley and she tosses her hair as he pulls the shirt off her, revealing her black bra. But before he can take her tits in hsi hands, her hands reach for his shirt, her nails scraping his skin softly as she pulls it off him.  
Both shirts land on the floor of the tent as he kisses her, hands gripping her hips.  
She runs her hands up his chest and then she’s pushing him onto his back and he looks up at her.

He skims her bare skin, running his fingers down her spine, pausing for a second at the small of her back, pressing his fingers there and she shivers, and mutters “Bellamy” its soft, breathy and he loves it.  
She’s beautiful, especially like this.  
Under the mercy of his hands, pale skin glowing under the moonlight.  
His fingers run back towards her hair and he gathers her hair in his hand and tugs gently, admiring the way she thrusts her chest out, her breasts close to spilling out.  


She lets out a little huff but she leans down to kiss him, her bra clad breast brushing against his chest and he lets his hands move from her back down to her ass, squeezing her ass she moans into his mouth, her hips grinding against his. He slips his fingers under her panties, her skin soft under his touch.  
Bellamy loses himself in the feeling of Clarke, the way her legs are on either side of him, the weight of her on top of him.  
Her bare skin and the feeling of the soft cotton panties she is wearing under his fingers, the way her hair tickles his skin, the way she smells, the way her fingers play with his hair, combing through his curls.  
He loses himself in the way she kisses him, hard and teasing, her teeth nipping at his lips and the way she pulls away only to come back for more as if she doesn't want to be separated from him for more than a few seconds.  
He loses himself in the way she’s wet and warm and tight around his fingers, the way she stops kissing him to pant into his neck as he moves his fingers faster.  
Her hips are rocking against his rock hard cock and he wants nothing more than to sink into her but she’s close so close and he turns his head to press a kiss to her forehead and uses his thumb to run her clit.  
She falls apart with his name on her lips, head buried into his neck.  


As he pulls his fingers out he feels her press a kiss to his neck and he wraps an arm around her.  
“You’re good?”  
Clarke laughs pressing a kiss to his jaw before she takes his fingers in her mouth, licking the taste of her off his fingers her eyes on his and he uses his other hand to unhook her bra.  
She pushes herself up and he watches her bra fall off.  
This is not the first time or even the hundredth time he has seen her naked but it takes his breath away every single time.  
One of her palms is over his heart and he wraps his fingers around her wrist lightly before he slides them up her arms, raising goosebumps on her skin, lighting a fire across her skin.  
She stops him, grabbing his hands and placing them at his sides.  
She meets his eyes as she leans down to kiss her way down his chest stopping at the hem of his underwear.  
Giving him a wicked grin, she tugs on his underwear and he lifts his hips up to let her pull them off and she tosses them behind her.

He's not one for receiving, preferring giving but Clarke loves the way he falls apart, the way he sounds as she takes him in his mouth.  
And well he has never been one to say no to Clarke- at least in the bedroom.  
Plus, he loves the way she looks, eyes dark locked on his, his cock in between her pink lips, as she bobs her head, licking at his tip and then swallowing as much of him as she can until the feeling of being in her mouth is too much for him and he comes.  


His hand reaches for her hair twisting it in his hands, the blonde strands bright even in the dark room, as she swallows him, trying to take as much of him as possible, her jaw stretching.  
He closes his eyes, tilting his head back as she pulls away with a light pop, a quick preview of what is to come.  
The first swipe of her tongue has him moaning, fingers tightening in her hair.  
He can feel her grin as she runs her tongue down the side of his cock before taking the head back into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip, her hand wrapped around him as she pumps him.  
She takes him into her mouth little by little, intent on teasing him, pulling back to lick a stripe down his cock before she wraps her mouth around his tip again and again until she is able to take more and more of him into her mouth.  
She uses her hands to brace herself as she swallows him, eyes wide.  
Bellamy fights the urge to thrust into her mouth, his grip in her hair tightening.  
He's close, her head bobbing frantically and judging by the way she's rubbing herself on his leg, her panties wet, she's not too far behind him.  
One of her hands reaches to squeeze his ball gently and between that the feeling of Clarke's mouth on his cock, he comes with a low guttural moan.  
His hands loosen from her hair and when she looks up, her lips pink and wet and her cheeks flushed and she has a drop of white on her lips he can’t help himself, pulling her up for a kiss, turning them over, his hips in between hers one arm caging her in while the other reaches down to try to tug her panties off her as his tongue explores her mouth.  
While he prefers the taste of Clarke on his mouth, he doesn’t mind tasting himself as he kisses her.  


He's a big believer in giving what he gets so he pulls away from Clarke and makes his way down her body.  
He cups her tits in his hands, loving the weight of them in his hands, how soft and perfect they are.  
He lingers there for a while using both his mouth and his hands to suck and tug on her nipples until they are hard points and then he uses his teeth to nip at her skin, as her nails dig into his back, leaving small half-moon marks, sucking away the brief pain as he marks her as his.  
He likes the noises she makes when his mouth is on her breasts- a muffled moan and sigh.  
Once he’s satisfied with the amount of time he spent on her breast, he trails kisses down her stomach.  
It’s no secret that he loves every part of Clarke, from her blonde hair to her soft curves to the tips of her toes.  
He pauses to kiss her hip bone and she giggles at the sensation which makes him grin.  
He does the same to the other side, his nose dragging across her sensitive skin, pausing for a second to nose at the dark blonde curls in between her legs.  
Then he takes his place between her legs, placing a leg over his shoulders, baring her to his gaze.  
Some days he had a hard time believing that this was not a dream.  
That she is real.  


He doesn't bother to give Clarke a warning before he licks a stripe down her cunt and he hears her gasp, then he feels her fingers in his curls.  
He sets a quick pace, his tongue swirling around her clit before he makes his way down and up, with long broad licks.  
Her feet is on his back, trying to push him closer, deeper and her hands are tight in his hair, almost painful and he uses his hands to spread her wider, giving him more access to her.  
He loves eating Clarke out.  
He could spend hours, days doing this, and be happy.  
She tastes good and she's eager and he loves it when she loses control, unable to keep herself voice down as he fucks her with his tongue.  
He can hear her crying his name and she’s bucking her hips but he's focused on his task.  
He slips two fingers in and she lets out a loud moan, clenching down on his fingers and a raspy “Bellamy”. He looks up for a second to see her, back arched, both hands on her breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples.  


He crooks his fingers as he moves them in and out, swirls his tongue around her clit.  
His chin is wet and he can tell that she is close and for a split second he wants to pull away, tease her but he decides not too, next time.  
Clarke comes with a loud cry, as he sucks her clit into his mouth, her fingers tight in his hair, eyes screwed shut.  
He noses the soft patch of dark blonde curls as she calms down, pressing kisses to her inner thighs and hips.

She gives him a dazed smile and he shakes his head as he crawls back up to kiss her.  
She kisses him lazily, hands on his shoulders and she wraps her legs around his waist.  
He trails kisses from her lips to her neck as he waits for her to be good to go.  
She laughs, his stubble tickling her skin.  
It was one of the first things he did for her, shaving his beard.  
He remembers Clarke kissing his face, mummering how he looks like himself again.  
After that, he had vowed to always shave for her.  
Anything for Clarke.

Bellamy nuzzles her neck and she turns her head to press a kiss to his jaw before she wraps one arm around his shoulder, the other in his hair. She pulls him closer to her as he slides into her slowly.  
Bellamy’s eyes flutter for a second as to how good she feels around his cock.  
“Fuck Clarke.”  
He can feel her clench down around him and he huffs into her neck, “fuck” and he hears her laugh. Her laugh turns into a gasp as he bites down at the juncture of her neck, using his tongue to soothe away the pain.  
He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he braces his arms on either side of her, she nods and he slides into her slowly.  
He watches as her eyes flutter close and her mouth drops as he starts to thrust into her, hitting a deeper spot as he does.  
He hikes a leg high up his back and he kisses her as she groans into his mouth.  
She raises her own hips, using one leg to brace herself on the mattress, matching his pace and intensity.  
Her hands trail down his shoulders to his ass, pulling him closer and when he moans into her mouth, he knows he’s about to lose control.  
He pulls away from her lips much to Clarke’s displeasure but he makes up for it, muttering into her ear, speeding up his movements and Clarke ends up coming with loud “Bellamy” and he follows her, a few moments later, panting into her neck.  
He nearly collapses on top of her and he feels her fingers combing through his hair.  
“I love you.”  
He kisses her shoulder and moves to lay down next to her.  
He brushes hair off her face and presses a kiss to her forehead.  
“I love you.”  
It’s a soft whisper.  


He looks at her as he pulls away and blinks.  
Her eyes are blue but she has black tears streaming down her face.  
“Clarke?”  
Her voice is hoarse.  
“You left me… you left me. You left me to die. You let me burn… your fault… your fault.”  
“Clarke! ClarkeClarkeClarke!”  


* * *

Bellamy’s eyes open wide and her name is still on his lips and it rolls off, ending in a loud heartbreaking sob.  
It’s not real.  
She’s not real.  
Clarke’s not his.  
She’s not next to him.  


It was a dream.  
A nightmare.  


It wasn’t real.  


He cries.  


He cries because she’s all he ever wanted.  
He wants to be happy with Clarke.  
To have Clarke, after all these years.  


He cries because he hates this, dreaming of her only to wake up and realize that it’s not real.  
That he’s in a room with no windows and a small cot and bars over his door.  
He’s alone.  
He’s in a prison.  
Both physically and mentally.  


He thinks of the possibility of Clarke going through this.  
It scares him.  


He thinks about Clarke laughing, kissing him, her skin pressed against his, how she felt under his fingers and how it’s not real.  
He has never kissed her except for when he breathed life into her, not willing to let her die, risking it all, risking everyone for her.  


Her name tumbles off his lips, “Clarke. Clarke, ClarkeClarkeClarkeClarke....”  


* * *

The room is dark and all she has to keep her company is the hum of machines.  
She likes the silence of the night shift, it’s lonely, dark, perfect for what she has to do.  
The sharp beeping causes her to raise her heads and check on the machine and her shoulders slumped.  
She had hoped he wouldn't wake up during her shift.  
She pushes her chair to walk to the other side of the room to grab the folder to markdown Bellamy Blake waking up.  
She's so into making sure she checks the right boxes and signing her name that she doesn't hear anyone enter the room until they touch her shoulder.  
She screams scrambling for her gun but pauses when she sees who it is.  
"Sorry sir, I wasn't expecting anyone."  
He looks over and gestures to the machine.  
"So this is where all the magic happens? I’ve heard great things about this... project. What do those lines mean?”  
She swallows and turns away from him.  
She traces the lines with her fingers a sad smile on her face.  
“Those are when he sleeps and that spike is when he wakes up, realizing that it’s a dream.”  
Her heart clenches, she hates this.  
She hates what they are doing.  
A hand squeezes her shoulder, lingering, his thumb rubbing her, and she swallows thinking of why she is doing this.  
It takes all she has not to stiffen.  
“I want to see him.”  
It's an order not a request.  
She can't say no.  
She flips on the camera and turns on the volume and Bellamy Blake’s sobs fill the room, echoing not only in the room but in her head.

“Clarke. Clarke! ClarkeClarkeClarke!”  
She closes her eyes as he calls out for the girl.  
He's pleading, his voice breaking the more he calls out her name.  
The one person he loves, his deepest desire and biggest weakness.  
Bigger than the love of his sister.  
He loves his sister but Clarke?  
He would and has killed for her. 

“She will be here soon. I can’t wait to see what kind of girl she is. She must be pretty special if she's all he can think about. According to his file, she's in his every thought- both his desire and his fear."  
She nods, she has spent the last few days monitoring him, and all Bellamy can think about is Clarke.

Clarke with her blonde hair and blue eyes and the way she challenges Bellamy.  
The softness in her eyes as she tells him to use his head.  
The way his hands cup Clarke’s body, familiar with it despite him never having had done so in the real world.  
His thoughts reveal what he wants and what he fears  
Building a life with Clarke- that his biggest want, his desire.  
To be happy, at peace, to tell her how he loves her and to show it.  
Watching her die, watching her leave him to die in the pits, that his biggest fear. The thought that she doesn't want him, can't forgive him, the idea of losing her terrifies him.

She hears the door close behind her and she looks at the screen, his voice still echoing in the room. Bellamy sobbing over the loss of the girl he always wanted but never had, wanting his dream to be a reality.  
It’s a cruel way of torture.  
Her hand hesitates over the switch that will silence the room.  
Eventually, his sobs turn to rage and he’s yelling screaming for them to face him. For them to come for him. That he will destroy them if they touch Clarke.

What‘s it like to go to war for someone you love?  
To have something worth fighting for?  
His screams grow quieter and she sighs, rubbing her eyes tired.  
Her shift will be over soon.  
Her hands hesitate over the lever and as she watches Bellamy lay back down on his bed, anger in his body but sadness on his face and she pulls.  
Smoke fills the room and once it clear, his chest is rising and falling and he’s asleep again, dreaming of his blonde-haired princess.

Giving Bellamy a taste of what he has always wanted, a home, a happy life with Clarke, only for him to wake up that realize that it's not real.  
Making him relive the pain of leaving her on a burning planet, of her dying in his arms, of how she pointed a gun and him and left him in the pits.  


She’s done this experiment before but never to someone like Bellamy.  
Never to an innocent.  
Her hand shakes as she reaches for the keys to the cabinet.  
Her hands tremble over the needles.  
Red or green?  
Desire or fear?  



	2. But It Feels So Real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lee, this was totally not inspired by your username.  
> Happy Birthday, love.

She looks small.  
So small that it hurts him.  
He’s never once thought of Clarke has small.  
She’s the princess.  
She's his princess.  
She stands in front of them and making the hard decisions, looking to him for his support.  
Clarke Griffin is not small but right now, right here, short blonde hair barely reaching her shoulders, handcuffs around her wrists, she’s small.  
Her skin is soft under his hand, her blue eyes are full of anger and hurt.  
He wants to apologize to her, he wants to ask for forgiveness as he pulls away from her.  
But he can’t find the right words.  
For all his speech giving, for all his inspiring words, he can’t find the right ones.  
Perhaps there are no right words.  
Perhaps there is no forgiveness for him.

“Bellamy?”  
Her voice is so soft as if she can’t believe that he’s walking away from her.  
But as he walks away, her voice becomes louder.  
“Bellamy! Bellamy! Please!”  
He can hear her screaming, begging him not to leave her behind.  
Begging him to unchain her.  
But he walks away.  
There’s nothing he won’t do to save her and this- giving Madi the chip will save her.  
But her screams fill his head.  
And as Madi closes her eyes, accepting the chip, her screams are deafening in his mind.

And when she slaps him later on, eyes full of betrayal and hurt, well he deserves it.  
He watches her walk away, the golden strands of her hair disappearing from his view taking with it any warmth he had.  
No amount of standing near the fire or having Echo next to him, her arms around him, will make up for the warmth he lost when he betrayed Clarke. 

“You left me to die!”  
“You left me first.”  
Her eyes are full of tears and he wants to brush them away.  
He hates himself for putting those tears there.  
“I didn’t want to, if I could..”  
“I’m not talking about when you left to space, I'm talking when you left me chained up screaming, begging for you not to touch my daughter, not to put the flame in her head, but that it didn't matter. Because we aren't your family.  
She spits it out, fury on her face and his heart just shatters.  
“That’s not true,”  
He reaches for her needing her to understand but she dances away, out of his reach.  
She’s always out of reach.  
“You told me- Echo, Emori, Raven, Murphy, their my family.”  
Her voice is mocking, cruel, eyes hard like ice.  
This isn’t his Clarke Griffin, this is Wanheda.  
“Clarke.”  
“You were willing to let my family die to save yours. I can never forgive you for that.”  
Her words break his heart again, and her tears shatter him.  
He stumbles forward reaching for her but his fingers brush her skin as she walks away from him.  
She leaves him crumpled on his knees, her name on his lips, begging her to turn around to come back, to let him fix things, to forgive him.  
She walks away, the color, the warmth sweeping away leaving him, alone in the cold and the dark.  
He calls for her, “Clarke! ClarkeClarkeClarke!”  
He wakes up screaming, tears on his face. 

* * *

He can’t get out of bed.  
"Please, just stop, make it stop.”  
He doesn’t know what day it is or what time it is.  
He just needs it to stop.  
He needs Clarke.  
He has to know if she’s okay, alive.  
If she forgives him.  
“Please”  
But a minute later as if his prayers have been answered smoke fills the room and Bellamy's eyes flutter close.

* * *

She’s wearing the orange spacesuit and her helmet is in her arms.  
She's alive, breathing in front of him.  
There are a limited amount of rooms available right now and a part of him is surprised that she’s in his room, but he’s pleased.  
His own orange suit is on the floor in her corner of his room.  
He’s tired, exhaustion creeping on him as well as the pain of knowing his sister is down there, on a burning planet, under the ground, in a bunker.  
But all that goes away as he looks at her.  
She’s alive.  
She’s in front of him.  
She’s real.

“Bellamy?”He takes a step towards her, removing her helmet from her arms, placing it next to his.  
Her hands fumble with the zipper and Bellamy without even thinking takes a step towards her.  
His fingers shake as he helps her out of the bulky suit and more and more after soft creamy skin is revealed to his eyes and then she is standing in a simple black tank top and pants and she’s beautiful, alive.  
She's alive.  
“You're really here, you made it “  
She laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.  
She places a hand over her heart, a soft teasing smile on her lips.  
“I used this.”  
He could have lost her.  
She could have died on the ground, burning.  
But she’s here in front of him.  
She’s alive.  
She made it. 

He cups her face, and she looks up him blue eye wide, pink lips parted.  
“Princess.”  
It’s soft but her eyes flutter close at the old nickname. 

He kisses her, softly at first, his hands on her face and she lets out a soft sigh, parting her lips, pressing her hands to his stomach, hands slipping under his shirt.  
He moans, kissing her harder, his hand gripping her hips as he walks her towards the bed.  
He pulls away to pull off his shirt and Clarke hums in approval, running her hands up his chest and then down his back before they head back up to this his dark curls.

Her hand tug on his hair as he presses her down to the mattress.  
They kiss each other lazily, his arms on either side of her, while her nails dig into his shoulders. He has one leg slotted in between hers.  
He had thought about this a lot.  
What sex with Clarke Griffin would be like.  
He always thought it would be fast, hips moving together, trying to find time for each other in the midst of the neverending chaos on the ground.  
But that is not the case, not anymore, not up here in space.  
They have all the time in the world now.  
He can take his time now, with memorizing the curve of her body and the different sounds she makes.  
She pushes his chest and he sits up and she tugs off her tank top revealing a simple ill-fitted bra and his fingers work on the clasp to free them.  
The soft hiss she lets out when he puls it off her is a relief.  
He presses a kiss to the imprint of the bra straps on her shoulders, hating the marks.  
He wonders if he can convince her not to wear her bra for the next five years, he wouldn’t mind that.  
Or maybe he can find some fabric and make the straps longer, so they don't dig into her skin.  
He kisses his way down until he takes her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue until it’s erect, then he moves to suck and nip at her breast.  
Clarke moans, arching her back, pressing her breast into his mouth and his hand, which is squeezing her other breast while he lavishes attention on her right breast.  
He marks her on the upper part of her breast, visible from her tanktop and he likes the idea of everyone seeing his mark, knowing that she is his, not that they need the reminder,  
Everyone knows she is his.  
She has always been his.  
He switches his attention to her other breast until she’s panting under him, one hand on his back, nails digging into his skin.  
Eventually, she pushes him away only to pull him in for a kiss, her hands pushing his pants down his waist, and he takes that a sign to shove her pants down.  
They fumble for a bit not wanting to break away from each other, laughing as their legs get tangled up as they kick their pants to the floor. 

Her hands are wrapped around his back, playing with the curls on the back of his neck and she buries her face into the crook of his neck, and it reminds him of the hug they hared back on the ground not even a few hours ago. 

He grabs her thigh wrapping it around his waist and she wraps her arms around him together and he pushes into her gently, his head nuzzling her neck.  
He feels her nails digging into his skin as he presses a kiss to her collarbone.  
He pauses letting her get used to him, but Clarke digs her foot into his ass, pushing him closer and both of them moan as he pushes into her deeper.  
She clenches around him and suddenly she laughs and he can't help but laugh too because this is so much better than any fantasy he has had of them.  
He lifts his head to look at her and her eyes are soft and he kisses her, as one of her hands makes its way into his hair.  
She pulls away, blue eyes dazed, and thrust her hips up to encourage him to start moving.  
He moves slowly, wanting to take his time because they have so much time now but Clarke isn’t having it.  
She thrusts her hips up, meeting his and he closes his eyes as she clenches around him.  
Her hands cup his smooth face, pressing kisses to his freckles as he thrusts into her, his eyes on her.  
He’s not surprised that it took the world going up in flames for them to finally be together.  
She mutters in between kisses and he doesn’t catch what she’s saying but the sentiment is clear as her nails dig into his skin and she throw her head back, a moan escaping her lips and he slips a finger between them, rubbing her clit.  


When she comes, it’s his name that comes tumbling off her lips, loud and he follows her, burying his head into the crook of her neck, as she strokes the back of his neck, soothingly.  
When he lifts himself up to look at her he freezes.  
Her eyes are wide and her face is red and she’s in clear agony.  
“Clarke?”  
Her eyes snap to meet his.  
“You left me….. You left me to burn.”  
Her body shakes, and he screams, tears on his cheeks, asking her what he can do, asking her for forgiveness.  
Bellamy wakes up a sob in his throat, his body shaking as he curls up on his side. 

Hours later he drags himself out of bed to use the washroom, drink some water and eat the food left for him.  
There’s a book on the table and he sighs.  
He has no idea how much time has passed but they had gone from giving him the drug every few hours to giving it to him when he asks for it. There are no windows, no sun in his room but a light flashes in his room at random intervals to signify when he is being brought food and water and needs to go to bed and he makes his way to bed.  
He doesn’t know how many days he’s been here or how many months but he knows the drill.  
A light flashes, smoke appears or the drug is in his food or injected into his arms as he sleeps and then he sees Clarke.  
He has her in his bed, in his arms, then he loses her.  
She hates him, he loses her.  
It’s a neverending cycle.  
She seems so real but she’s not. 

* * *

It’s somewhat fitting that she’s working the night that Clarke Griffin comes to them.  
She’s alone in the room, as usual, the hum of the machines surrounding her.  
She has just finished giving Prisioneer 1028 and Prisoner 2490 their doses- both of them their deepest fears.  
Her eyes scan the screens, monitoring them.  
But her eyes keep going to Bellamy’s monitor.  
He’s sleeping, a dose of deepest desire running through his system.  
She’s not sure what she prefers to give him- does of fear or desire.  
Both end up with him screaming.  
She hates her job but the idea of leaving Bellamy to the hands of her coworkers doesn’t sit right with her.  
She had heard them laugh, seem them whisper about it, seen them take glee in what they are doing.  
There’s no glory in what they do, not when they have innocent people here.  
Some prisoners- 4541 for examples deserves much worse than he is getting.  
But Bellamy, she has seen his file.  
He’s a good man, he has shown remorse for his actions.  
Not that the people in charge care.  
For them, a crime is a crime and punishment must be given.  
But she knows the truth, Bellamy isn’t here because he did something wrong.  
He’s here because of Clarke Griffin.  
They have heard great things about her and considering that she is the star of Bellamy’s desires and fears, many are eager to meet her.  
She, however, rather not, if there is one thing she’s sure of is that Clarke Griffin coming to the facility will mean the end of them. 

She’s in the middle of taking down some data in Bellamy's file when the door flies open.  
She turns around and her eyes meet the blue eyes of Clarke Griffin.  
For a second, she can’t breathe.  
The picture of Clarke Griffin doesn't do her justice,  
It doesn't capture the fierce intensity of her eyes and the way her hands are steady as she holds the gun to her head.  
“Back away from the monitors. “  
She does so slowly hands in the air as she turns slowly to look at Clarke.  
The blonde eyes widen in shock and she takes a step back.  
“Becca?”  
She laughs softly.  
“ Liz actually, great-great grand niece of Becca.”  


Clarke isn’t laughing.  
The girl in front of her bears a remarkable resemblance to Becca, from the long dark hair to the white lab coat.  
She's not sure how it is possible but right now, she had other priorities. Clarke steps into the room, closing the door behind her.  
“Where is Bellamy Blake?”  
“Bellamy Blake- Prisoner 2199. Cell Block A, 4th floor.”  
Her hand reaches for the keyboard and then Clarke’s there, gun pointed at her head.  
“I said back away.  
“Don’t you want to see him?”

Clarke hesitates.  
She wants nothing more than to see him, she needs to see him.  
“Show him to me, but if you do anything else…”  
“I know, I know. You’ll kill me.”

She touches a few keys on the keyboard and Bellamy's room comes onto the main screen.

Clarke freezes at the sight of him.

He’s laying in bed, black pants and blue shirt, a blanket covering him.  
Clarke can’t see his face clearly but she can tell that his beard is gone.  
“He’s sleeping, dreaming of you.”  
Clarke swallows, her gun slack in her hand pointing at Liz’ back.  
“You are his deepest desire and biggest fear.”  
“Shut up!”  
Liz ignores her, "You had a taste of it, didn't you, with the anomaly? This is much worse.”  
There’s a click and Clarke holds the gun at her head.  
“What did you do? What did you do to him!”  
She hears a whisper but she doesn't turn around as she looks at the screen.  
Bellamy will be waking up soon.  
“We showed him his greatest fear- you not forgiving him and his deepest desire- a peaceful life with you.”  
Clarke is frozen and she licks her lips.  
She can’t trust this woman she knows that but she wants too.  
“How do you know?”  
“He calls your name, after every dose. The first few times, he would wake up screaming, sobbing, calling for you, begging for you. Then he would get angry, throw stuff around the room.”  
Clarke feels sick.  
It’s only been two weeks, two weeks of searching for Bellamy, of trying to find him, going from place to place meeting with people to find Bellamy.  
She thinks of Mount Weather, they hadn't been there for long either but the scars that they carried, they have had for a lifetime.  
What scars would Bellamy carry from this?

She looks at the woman, she should kill her.  
But a gunshot could bring more guards, more trouble and she needs to get to Bellamy.  
So Clarke slams the butt of her gun at her head and the woman crumples to the floor.  
She picks up Bellamy’s file on the desk and shoves it into her bag. She grabs a set of keys on the desk and grabs the women’s id card and makes her way to Bellamy, leaving Miller and Niylah behind to find where Octavia and Dioyza are, and Raven and Jordan to talk to figure out what has been done, and how they can get home. 

Miller had wanted to come with her to get Bellamy but Clarke rather that he go after the others.  
This is something she has to do.  
Alone.

Her hand shakes as she opens Bellamy’s door.  
The room is white, no windows, a white metal table and chair with a grey cardigan over it, two books on it, an empty plate and a full glass of water.  
He’s the in the corner of the room, white blanket drawn up to his chin.  
Clarke tucks a strand of hair behind her ears and looks towards the door.  
She has no idea how much time she has but she needs to work quickly so she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to walk to his bed. 

Clarke sits on the edge of the bed and takes a minute to study him.  
His hair's a little longer messier, he has dark circles around his eyes and up close to him, she can see that he has lost some weight.  
His beard is gone and he looks so young, so much like her Bellamy that before she can stop herself she cups his jaw, her fingers brushing his face.  
He turns his head towards her hand, his lips pressing against her fingers before a soft content sigh escapes his lips.  
The lines of his face smooth out and a small smile appears on his face and Clarke smiles softly.  
She tucks a leg under her as she keeps rubbing her thumb over his cheek.  
She thinks back to another time where he was asleep in her presence, it was a lifetime ago.  
_If I’m on that list, you’re on that list.  
_ _Write it down or I will._

“Clarke?”  
His voice is hoarse, soft, more of a mummer than anything.  
She stills, her thumb on his cheek and his eyes open slowly.  
Clarke’s heart clenches as she watches him wake up, his eyes are droopy, his hair is a mess, and all she wants to do is kiss his freckles until he wakes up.  
She wants to spend the nights with him, waking up to him every morning, hearing him say her name, half asleep and softly, legs intertwined, arm around each other. 

He blinks up at her, bringing her into focus and Clarke watches as his hand moves, reaching for her only to pause.  
“No, not real. You’re not real. “  
He sits up pushing her hand away and Clarke moves back as he glares at her.  
Suddenly she is back on the ground and he hates her, he hates her for leaving him, for going to Lexa, who betrayed them in the mountain.  
“You’re not real. YOUR NOT REAL”  
His voice is louder, stronger and she scrambles backward towards the wall.

He gets up, throwing the blankets to the floor and Clarke watches as he makes his way to a corner of the room. 

“Is this another game? I'm not falling for it! I know all your tricks! She’s not real!”  
Clarke can’t help but let out a choked sob as she watches him toss the glass at the camera, water splashing on the floor.  
What have they done to him?  
She thinks about how she is supposed to be his greatest desire and biggest fear.  
She’s not sure what that means but the implication are running through her mind.  
He picks up a chair, and a cardigan she recognizes as Gabriel's falls to the floor and she jumps as the chair hits the wall.  
The table is next, shoved and it hits the wall, and a bunch of books fall to the floor.  
Clarke is frozen and he turns towards her, eyes dark, fists shaking and then he's coming towards her.  


He cages her body with his arms his eyes on hers, angry and dark but his voice is so soft.  
“You’re not real. You’re not her.”  
Clarke rises to her knees, cupping his face, her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones and his eyes flutter closes, his muttering getting faster as he trembles under her touch.  
“I’m right here. I’m real. I’m real. I’m real Bellamy.”  
She can feel his tears hitting her face mixing with her own.  
“You told me to wake up, to get up and fight that you needed me. That Madi needed me.”  
She still thinks of those words, how much they meant to her, the power they hold.  
He brought her back to her life.  
He became her heart, he’s always been her heart.  
He presses his forehead against hers and she closes her eyes, letting go of hsi face, she instead wraps her hand around his biceps, her nails digging into his skin.

“I need you, Bellamy Blake. Madi needs you. Octavia needs you. Your family needs you. We need you. Wake up, wake up, and fight. Come back to me.”  
He tries to pull back but she holds him tighter, her nose brushing his.  
“I'm real Bellamy. I'm really here”  
She keeps muttering it as he mutters ” You’re not real, she’s not here.”  
She eventually lets go of his biceps and instead lets her fingers trail down to one of his wrists wrapping her hand around it and pulling it off the bed, and he tips forward but she’s there, keeping him upright. She places his hand over her heart, holding it there, letting him feel it beating.  
“I’m alive. I’m real.”  
One of his hands ends up curling into her hair, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck, holding her close.  
She thinks back to the lab and how safe she felt in his arms, his hands holding her close.  
How she's always been safe around him.  
“I’m real,” she runs her other hand in his hair soothingly as he takes a deep breath.  
“Say it, Bellamy. Say it, please. I need you. Madi needs you. Octavia needs you.”  
She’s close enough to kiss him.  
She could kiss him.  
But she’s selfish and doesn't want their first kiss to be one where she's begging him to realize that she’s real. 

“I’m real.”  
“You’re real. You’re real.”  
She doesn't hear him the first few times but then she realizes his words have changes.  
He’s muttering fast and it blurs together but his _you’re not reals_ are now _you’re real._  
“You’re real. Yourerealyourealyoureeayourereal.”  
She pushes away from him and his eyes are looking at her with such intensity that she licks her lips and his eyes drop to follow the movement.  
Then his eyes flicker up to meet hers, and they are dark, dark with something Clarke has only see in her dreams.  
“Bellamy?”

But before she can say something to him, before she can even think of pulling his face towards her, there's a loud crash and Clarke slides off the bed and pulls out her gun.  
She positions herself in front of Bellamy.  
"Clarke."  
She shakes her head, pressing herself closer to him.  
"You don't have a weapon or anything. Let me protect you this time."  
The door bursts open and Clarke is ready to pull the trigger but it's Miller.  
His gun is pointing at her.  
He lowers it when he seems them and she sees relief spread on his face as he sees Bellamy behind Clarke.  
"Thank god. We have to go."  
Clarke nods and she pulls on Bellamy's hand but he pulls away and Clarke turns to sees him pick up Gabriel's cardigan and pull it on and her heart clenches at the sight of him in it.  
She turns back to see Miller holding the books that had been on the floor, from where Bellamy had thrown the table in his hand. He gestures for her to turn around and then they are in her bookbag.  
It might be silly for them to bring books but she can see creases and the pages and she knows that Bellamy loves reading.  


As they walk down the hallway, Miller behind them and Clarke in front, she is aware of Bellamy being right behind her.  
He’s pretty much on top of her, walking at her heels, and she doesn’t know if its because he wants to protect her or because a part of him isn’t sure if she’s real.  
There’s a loud slam and the sound of an alarm and lights flash and she jumps and his hand wraps around her arm.  
She switches the gun to her other hand and pats Bellamy’s hand and his other hand covers hers and she feels him step closer to her, her back pressed against his front.  
“It’s okay.”  
Miller is behind them but he moves to the front while Clarke closes ehr eyes as Bellamy nuzzles her neck, taking in a deep breath, ruffling her hair.  
“You’re real, you’re real.”  
He whispers it into her ear and Clarke tries to focus on his voice and not the loud blaring alarms and the flashing lights.  
“I’m real.” She turns her head, her lips skimming his hair and he lets out a shuttered sigh as he pulls away.  
Their eyes lock for a second and she swallows and his eyes flicker to her lips.  
“You’re real.”  
His voice is soft, unsure and Clarke nods.  
“I’m real.”  
She wants to wrap her arms around him, bury her head into the crook of his neck and just bask in his presence.  
But a loud clang brings her back to the situation at hand and she turns away, as Miller turns the corner, gun in his hand.  
But before she can walk away, the hand on her arms trails down to her hand and squeezes it.

It’s not logical, her next move and it’s likely to get them killed but as Bellamy lets go on her hand she reaches for it, interlocking their fingers.  
Then she’s tugging him forward, gun in one hand, Bellamy's hand in the other.  
She tries not to focus on the warmth of his hand in hers and the way his hand is bigger than hers.  
Instead, she focuses on the weight of the gun in her hand and Miller in front of them, leading the way. She focuses on the loud blaring alarms the flashing lights.

When they see the others there is no time for greetings but Octavia smiles when she sees them, Gabriel's arm around her waist holding her up or perhaps she's holding him up, Clarke can't really tell. Echo steps forward and Clarke is about to let go of Bellamy’s hand but his grip tightens around her hands.  
“We need to go now, the alarms are getting louder.”  
They can hear shouting and it won't be long before the guards find them. 

Raven turns on the anomaly stone and Niylah helps Gaia through it first. Gabriel and Octavia hobble in next, Octavia's weight on Gabriel, her ankle swollen and bruised but Clarke notices the way he winces as Octavia's grips on his torso tightened. Clarke makes a mental note to check on her.  
Hope goes next, her eyes red as Dioyza follows her, bandages wrapped around her torso, blood-stained and dirty.  
Miler gestures for Echo to go next and after a glance at Bellamy and a glare at Clarke, she goes through.  
The doorknob rattles and Miller points his gun at the door, shoving Jordan towards the stone.  


Two things happen at once. Jordan goes through and the mist fills the room.  
Bellamy lets go of her hand to cover her mouth and nose, slamming her into the wall. His body presses against her and he’s trembling, his face buried into her neck. She tries to push him away because she can’t breathe but then she realizes that he’s mumbling into her neck.  
“Real.Real. Real.”  
Miller’s eyes are dazed and he’s stumbling backward as the door bursts open and Clarke shoves Bellamy off her and shoots.  
She clasps her lips together tightly, drawing blood as she tries not to breathe too much as she shoots. Miller is shooting too but he’s still dazed, his body trembling.  
Clarke feels like her lungs are going to burst and takes in a huge gulp of air.  
The bodies fall and she can hear the sound of people running and Clarke grabs Miller’s gun and shoves him towards Bellamy who is curled up on the floor.  
“Miller!”  
The man manages to hoist Bellamy up who’s muttering to himself and they head into the anomaly as Bellamy suddenly scream out her name.  
Clarke stumbles towards them following them gun pointed at the door where she sees a flash of dark hair and friend herself with Bec-Liz-Becca who mouths something to her as she falls through the portal.  
She lands on the ground, and Raven is there, helmet on as she closes the anomaly and tries to get them offline.  
“Got it!”  


But Clarke doesn't pay her anything.  
She’s too busy focused on Bellamy whose eyes are wide, knees drawn to his heaving chest as everyone crowds him.  
She shoves Echo out of the way and Octavia moves out hovering over her shoulder but Clarke ignores them.  
“Bellamy? Bellamy?”  
She cups his face “Look at me. Focus on me. “  
“You’re not real.”  


Clarke heart sinks.  
Bellamy's constant exposure to the drug in both injections and mist has made him highly sensitive. By covering her mouth he made sure she didn’t inhale too much he had taken in a lot of the drug himself.  
She can hear Niyah talking to Miller who is no doubt experiencing a milder form of the drug as he didn't have a Bellamy protecting him.  


“I need you, okay. Madi needs you. Octavia needs you. Focus on me okay?”  
She presses her forehead against his, her thumbs rubbing back and forth on his cheeks.  
“I’m real. I’m right here.”  
He’s not focusing on her words so Clarke pulls away and pushes his knees down gently until they are on the floor, she notices him wince slightly and makes a mental note of it.  
She straddles him, sinking onto his lap and presses her lips to his forehead and her other hand combs through his curls.  
He lifts his head up, their foreheads touching, head tilted, lips a millimeter away.  
“You’re not real.”  
His voice is soft, broken, unsure and it fills Clarke with a fury that makes her wish that she had killed everyone in Bardo.  


“I’m real. You’re home now. You’re home.”  
His hair is knotted in the back, not as soft in the back as it is in the front, she’s sure she can feel dried blood and it fills with her anger.  
They took him.  
They hurt him.  
They took Bellamy.  
They took him from her.  
“You’re home.”  
Her voice is soft but firm, for his ears only.  
She presses a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.  
“You’re home.”


	3. And Now You're Really Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's home but it's not all sunshine.  
> But time heals.  
> And they live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised extra smut for this chapter so fair warning. This chapter may be toeing the line between M and E so if you think I need to change the warning or add a tag let me know.

_Soft blonde curls tangled in his fingers, blue eyes locked on his as he thrusts into her, her nails digging into his skin, her breathy moans loud in his ear.  
Their black cryo pajamas crumpled in a heap on the floor as they rocked his cyro chamber.  
There isn’t a lot of room for them both but that hadn’t stopped him from kissing her when she woke him up, a soft look in her eyes as she looked down at him.  
He had sat up and had tangled their fingers together pulling her towards him until she was standing in between his parted legs and he had pulled her in and kissed her.  
She had let out a soft sigh as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair, and his hands pushed her pants and underwear down, needing to feel her skin under his hands, needing her.  
She pulls away as her pants hit the floor and pulls her shirt off as he does the same, standing up to kick off his own pants and underwear.  
_

_There’s a small part of him that thinks they should go somewhere else, that having sex in the cyro chamber surrounded by the sleeping bodies of their friends is not a good idea but then Clarke’s soft bra-clad breasts are pressed against his chest, her arms around his neck and she's biting his lip and he needs to feel her.  
He sits back down and she climbs into his lap, hips moving in circles, up and down, teasing him, dragging her folds over his cock and he’s sure that his fingers are leaving bruises on her skin from keeping himself from thrusting up. She tugs on his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, her lips on his jaw as she makes her way down to a spot on his neck that draw out a loud moan from his lips. He lets his fingers move up her back to remove her bra and it falls to the ground as he cups her breasts in his hands, her breasts nearly spilling out of his hands and she arches her back pressing them further into her hands as he tugs her nipple with his fingers, and her head falls back, sinking down onto his lap, and his eyes flutter slightly when he feels how wet she is.  
"Fuck Clarke..."  
His voice breaks as she pushes him back, flat on his back and moves forward and his hands settle on her hips. She sinks down onto him slowly, the two of them groaning as he bottoms out, stretching her out. She kisses him softly before she moves back up, her hands on her breasts, teasing herself, plucking and pinching at her nipples, eyes closes, lips parted in bliss as Bellamys thrusts into her as she start bounces up and down, picking up speed the harder he thrusts into her, his hands tight on her hips.  
Maybe it's the fact it's been more than a hundred years or maybe it's because it's Clarke and he has loved her for as long as he could remember but as much as he wishes he can draw it out, the vision of Clarke taking her enjoyment, the way his name tumbles from her lips, the tightness of her cunt, the fast pace of it all, the thrill of fucking Clarke in his sleep tank, but she's close and he lets himself fall apart with her.  
Afterwards, she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, her nose pressed against his collarbone, her small but curvy body tucked tightly next to him and he closes his eyes, feeling happy and at peace.  
She’s beautiful and he loves her.  
He loves her.  
The words slip out of his lips and her nose nuzzles his neck, her lips muttering the words against his skin.  
When he opens them, she’s gone and Echo is looking at him.  
“Bellamy?”  
His eyes are wide and he searches the room, looking for a flash of blonde.  
“Where’s Clarke?”  
“Bellamy. She’s dead.”  
He shakes his head, “No, no. no.”  
_  
Someone is shaking him, calling his name.  
“Bellamy? Bell? Bell?”

His eyes open and Clarke’s face is looking at him in concern.  
Her hand pushes his sweaty hair back from his face as she coos softly.  
“You’re home. I’m real. I’m real.”  
She presses her forehead against his and he closes his eyes. He raises a hand and places it on Clarke’s back, carefully feeling the ridges of her spine under his fingers and he lets out a soft sigh.  
She lays back down her arm around his stomach and presses a kiss to his neck.  
“You’re home.”  
"I'm home."  


* * *

Bellamy doesn’t remember much of the day he came home.  
He remembers behind led onto a bike, his arms wrapped around Clarke, the wind whipping through his hair.  
He remembers a soft voice whispering to him as two sets of rougher hand help him off the bike and into a small white house.  
He remembers sinking into a soft bed, a warm blanket pulled over him, a hand running through his hair and the press of something on his forehead and a soft “you’re home now.”  
He falls asleep, the thought of Clarke’s soft skin under his fingers and her blonde hair splayed on the pillow as she calls his name filling his dreams.  
He wakes up hours later heart pounding but when he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is color- the walls aren't white, they are a soft blue and he blinks his eyes, clenching the blanket under his fingers.  
Then he’s aware of a body pressed next to him and he turns his head to see blonde hair and Clarke’s face.  
She’s asleep on her stomach, head turned in his direction, hands under her pillow.  
He closes his eyes and counts to ten.  
_She’s not real.  
This is another dream.  
This is not real.  
_ He’s not aware that he’s muttering it until she opens her eyes.  
“Bellamy?”  
She pushes herself up, giving him a view down her shirt and his cheeks warm up.  
“Clarke?”  
She sits up, legs crossed and moves his hair away from his face.  
“You passed out when we got back. Woke up a few more times, screaming. ”  
Clarke’s voice is so soft as she’s stroking his hair and Bellamy closes his eyes again basking in her touch for a few seconds.  
“You scared me. You were shaking and you crying and screaming and I was so scared.”  
She leans down to press a kiss to his forehead and he opens his eyes to see her looking at him and he raises a hand and runs his fingers through her hair, its soft and bright like the sun.  
“You’re really here?”  
She nods and lays back down, curls her body around his, wrapping her arm around his middle. His hand automatically starts to play with her hair.  
“You’re home.”  
She whispers it softly and he lets out a sigh and lets his eyes flutter close, feeling safe with her being there and Clarke smiles as his breathing slows down again.  
She's exhausted, fighting back sleep, she had been by his side since they had arrived two days ago, refusing to leave the room or the bed. 

When he wakes up again, Clarke is gone but he hears nosies, the sound of muffled laughter. He pulls on the cardigan on and slips his feet into shoes that Clarke must have left for him, there's a cane laying across a chair and he grabs it, already hearing Clarke fussing over him.  
He follows the noise to find everyone in the kitchen.  
They all turn to look at him, big smiles, eyes wide.  
To his surprise, Madi jumps up to throw her arms around him and he presses a hand to the back of her head, eye on Clarke who is smiling at them.  
She approaches them, wrapping an arm around him tucking herself into his side, one hand on Madi’s back over his and Bellamy's heart skips a beat because for a second its just the three of them.  
One little family.  
It doesn't seem real.  


Bellamy’s aware that his stomach is suddenly wet and Clarke run a hand through Madi’s hair soothingly while he rubs her back. Bellamy duck his head at the younger girl’s tears, trying to hide his own.  
Clarke bites her lip and presses her head into Bellamy's shoulder. “Let him breathe.”  
Madi steps away, brushing away a few tears and nods.  
“I have to get to class. Luca is waiting for me.”  
Her voice is shaky but before Bellamy can reassure her, she is out the door Miller following her, bread in his hand, he pauses long enough to squeeze Bellamy's shoulder.  
“Glad you are home. “  
There's that word again, home.  
He's home.  
It still doesn't seem real.  


The others all leave shortly after, all muttering excuses ranging from medical stuff to needing to go for a walk leaving them with Echo, Octavia, and Gabriel.  
Clarke turns her head to Gabriel.  
“Has anyone checked your bandages?”  
Octavia laughs, hands on Gabriel’s shoulders.  
“I’ve got him.”  
Bellamy notices the soft look in his sister’s eyes as Gabriel looks at her, eyes just as soft and he swallows, he didn't see that coming.  
“You’ve got some competition, Clarke. Octavia’s quite the nurse.”  
Bellamy hasn’t seen his sister smile so big in a while or seen her blush and it makes her look younger, the heaviness that had weighed on her when they first arrived to Sanctum seems to be gone.  
His relationship with her is on the road to recovery but he knows they have more work to do. But it’s nice to see his sister happier, even if that happiness seems tied to the old doctor.  
Octavia jerks her chin towards Clarke.  
“Well, I learned form the best. Someone had to help Clarke when we first arrived to the ground.”  
Clarke laughs, turning her head to muffle her laugh into his shoulder, “I can’t take all the credit. Lincoln taught you a lot too.”  
Bellamy expects there to be tension but instead Octavia lets out a soft sigh.  
“He did.”  
Gabriel reaches up to squeeze her hands on his shoulder and Bellamy looks away from the two, feeling awkward watching them have a moment and instead his eyes focus on Clarke, who is looking up at him.  
Her blue eyes are sad, shining with tears and she has a sad smile on her face and she seems to be closer then before, arm around his waist, her forehead within kissing distance.  
He wonders briefly how Clarke would feel about him kissing her forehead.  


A loud slam breaks his thoughts and gaze from Clarke and he turns to see Echo stand up from the table and walks out of the room, her footsteps loud.  
He feels guilty, having forgotten that she was still in the room.  
Gabriel and Octavia exchange a look before they leave the room, Octavia helping Gabriel walk as fast as possible out of the room, her hand on his lower back.  
Clarke lets out a sign and she shakes her head, pulling away from him and he has to stop himself from reaching out to bring her back into his arms.  
Now that he’s sure this is at least 90% real, he doesn't want to let her go.  
“Hungry?”  
He nods silent and she reaches for the coffee pot pouring some into a dark green mug.  
He sits down as Clarke loads his plate with food chatting about Murphy's cooking them breakfast and how he's now working in the kitchen for lunch and loves it, even though he complains about it.  
Clarke doesn't eat as much as he does, too busy making sure he eats but he figures he can hopefully bring up her lack of eating later. 

* * *

Everything hurts.  
Even after getting some sleep and taking it easy after he had woken up, everything hurts. Raising him arms to wash his hair takes a lot of pain and he ends up leaning his head on the shower wall.  
He's not sure why everything hurts but it does and he wants to crawl into bed and sleep.  
He doesn't realize how long he’s in there until he hears a knock on the door.  
“Bellamy?”  
He scrambles to turn off the water and peeks his head around the curtain.  
“Come in.”  
Clarke enters, a look of concern on her face. Her hair is tied back the way it used to be when they were on the ground, the ends dyed a bright red as Madi has gotten her hands on some berries and had begged Clarke to let her re-dye her hair.  
“Everything okay?”  
He bites his lip wondering if he should admit that he needs help. He doesn't want to ask but his hair feels greasy and his scalps is itchy and he's tired of feeling gross.  
“Everything hurts. Washing my hair...”  
Clarke's eyes take him, dark circles around his eyes, the way he gnaws on his lips, his wet hair, the way he sounds like he's ready to cry and her heart aches.  
She wants to wrap her arms around him and tell him that he's going to be okay, that's she never going to let him go. She wants to go back to Bardo and destroy them all. She wants to cry.  
She swallows back the anger and heartbreak in her body and pushes it back.  
She grabs a towel.  
“Do you need help? Will you let me, please?”  
Bellamy hesitates and then nods.  
“Please?”  
She hands him the towel and leaves the room and he pulls on a pair of pants quickly. He debates whether to out on shirt, not wanting to make Clarke uncomfortable but decided not to since she's going to behind him wash his hair.  
Clarke comes back dragging a chair behind her and settling it against the sink.

He settles himself into the chair as Clarke has him lean his head back so she can wash his hair for him. There’s a towel are around his neck and she places the scissors on the sink.  
Her fingers are gentle as she washes his hair, humming to herself. He closes his eyes and lets himself relax under her fingers.  
The position isn't the greatest for his neck but her soft soothing fingers makes up for it.  
Her nails scrap against his scalp, making sure to get the last of the dirt and grime out of his hair.  


Clarke laughs at the expression on Bellamy's face as she towel dries his hair, liking the way he scrunches his nose.  
Her laughter is bright and it makes Bellamy smile. He hasn't hard her laugh like that in years, and even then her laugh hasn't been as bright as this one.  
His eyes flicker up to the mirror only to flicker away.  
He can't explain why but looking at himself in the mirror makes him uncomfortable.  
Clarke picks up on this quickly and she gives his hair one last towel rub grinning as she pulls away. His hair is fluffy and he looks cute.  
She studies him, not wanting to ruin his hair. 

“Are you sure you trust me to do this? I could get your sister or like Echo or..”  
He places a hand on her arm, and she stops rambling, the heat of his hand sending a fire up her arm to the rest of her.  
“I trust you.”  
He always trust her to have his back, how can he not trust her to cut his hair?  
A part of him is still worried that this is not real but her gaze softens at his words and she leans in giving him a look down her shirt to place a soft kiss on his forehead. He closes his eyes briefly at the sensation of her lips against his forehead, that's new.  
He likes it.  
It doesn't have the same twinge of goodbye that Clarke’s cheek kiss had given him all those year ago when she left him behind after pulling the lever at Mount Weather this is different, more comforting, more loving.  
He swallows as she pulls away, running a hand through his hair up and down, making it spike up and she bites her lip.  
“I’ll try not to ruin your hair.”  
He winks at her.  
“Please don’t, its part of my charm.”  
She stand behind him running a hand through his for hair and he relaxes under her touch, his shoulder sinking down and she picks up the scissors.  
“Your charm is a lot more than your hair...”  
Her voice is soft, dreamy.  
“It's your smile and your laugh, it's the way your take care of your people, your bravery, your strength, your loyalty, your heart.”

She rattles it all off and more as she cuts his hair and Bellamy can feel his cheeks warm up from all her praise.

He’s not used to being compliment or being told he’s good. Echo’s never been the type to reassure him with words and Harper would occasionally tell him that he did a good job but hearing Clarke, that was different.  
Clarke trails off mid paragraph realizing that she’s pretty much confessing to Bellamy.  
She didn't mean to but after losing him again, she has the need to be near him, the need to tell him everything that she keeps close to her heart.  
She has spent much time not telling him and a part of her is scared she’ll lose him again before she gets to tell him that she loves him.  
But as much as she wants to tell him, she know he’s not ready for anything. 

He has a hard time realizing that this, that she is real.  
She can see it in the way he wakes up, her name on his lips, the way he blinks when he sees her, the way his fingers tremble when he reaches for her. As if he is waiting for her to disappear again.  
But she’s not going anywhere and neither is he.  
They have time now and she's going to use it.  


She pulls away and frowns, his hair is shorter than she would like but still as messy as ever and it remind her of her Bellamy before he went up to space.  
She walks in front of him to see that his curls are long and mess and she leans over to cut them but frowns. She doesn't want to mess up the front and the angle is hard for her to do.  
The most obvious solution is to climb on his lap and so without giving herself a chance to second guess herself she swings a leg over lap and steadies herself on his shoulders, Bellamy letting out a soft grunt of surprise as her knees settle down on either side of him.  
“Sorry.”  
She cups his face, growing at the slight stubble on his face and he closes his eyes. She frowns slightly but presses a kiss to his forehead before she picks up the scissors, reassuring him that she’s real.  
Bellamy’s hands are on her waist by the second clip and he tries not to look at Clakre as her chest is directly in his face but all he can see her. She’s warm alive under his fingers. She smells like all his favorite things that remind him of home.  
She hums to herself as she trims his front curls and his fingers curl around her hips grounding himself to reality, fingers dipping under her shirt, she pauses for a second, closing her eyes at his touch before she continues on.  


_She’s real she’s real she’s real_  
Clarke pretends that she doesn't hear him whisper it under his breath but instead she shifts her weight and he sucks in a breathe at the shift. He opens his eyes only to close them really really fast, trying to push away the thought of how easy it would be to nose her breast and nudge her tank top out of his way and get his mouth around her nipples until she’s arching her back, pushing her nipple into his mouth, hands pulling on his hair, his name spilling from her lips.  
He tightens his hands around her hips and bite his lip until he draws blood.  
Clarke is not aware to Bellamy’s inner turmoil, she’s too focused on cutting his hair and letting herself bask in the softness of his hair.  
Once she’s done cutting his hair, she sinks down onto his lap and runs her thumb over his cheek and he opens his eyes.  
His brown eyes are soft and vulnerable, she marvels at the trusts she sees in them but the sadness in them causes an ache in her heart and Clarke lets her gaze drop to his lips, where she sees the drop of blood and she automatically wipes it away and his tongue darts out to brush against her thumb and they both freeze. She pulls her hand away from his face away and focuses on his collarbone, her cheeks turning pink, warmth pooling in between her legs.  
Bellamy’s is sure his own ears are the same color of Clarke’s cheeks and as much as he wants to sink into the floor, he doesnt want her leaving his lap jut yet, so he presses a kiss to her forehead.  
Clarke closes her eyes at the pressure of his lips on her forehead. She ducks her heads and nuzzles his neck and his arms rub up and down her back as her hands play with the curls on the back of his head.  
They stay like that until the door opens and they pull away from each other at lighting speed heads turning to the door to find an amused Gabriel leaning on against the door frame.  
Clarke scrambles off his lap and hurries out the door muttering about needing to check on Sanctum on her lips leaving behind an embarrassed Bellamy and a smiling Gabriel.

* * *

_Clarke’s in her pink dress, a blush on her cheeks as Deliah praises her.  
He can’t take his eyes off her and when their eyes meet she smiles at him and he can’t help but hold out his hand to her, spinning her around watching her dress flutter around her legs.  
She stumbles into his chest as he lets go of her hand and his hands find her hips, steadying her and her smile turns into a pout.  
"Nothing to say?"  
He leans to brush his lips against hers lightly.  
“You look beautiful.”  
She rolls her eyes, a glint of lust in her eyes.  
“It’s just a dress.”  
“It’s more than a dress.”  
Her hands come up to play with his hair as he leans down to kiss her, his hands sliding from her waist to her ass, pulling her closer, squeezing her ass causing her to moan into his mouth.  
A cough causes them to separate.  
Murphy's covering Jordan’s eyes and Miller looks amused while Jackson looks like he swallowed a lemon.  
There’s another cough and both Bellamy and Clarke tun to look at Jade who’s staring at them stone face.  
“The Lightbournes are expecting you.”  
Clarke pulls away from him, “I’ll be back later.”  
Bellamy watches her elave the door, taking a aprt of hsi heart with him.  
He runs a hand through his hair as Murphy rolls his eyes.  
“She's going to dinner, not to war. Stop worrying.”  
"Shut up Murphy." _

_Bellamy drops to his knees, sliding his hands up her legs, lifitng the hem of her dress with it.  
Clarke braces herself against the wall with one hand in his hair, pulling him closer.  
He kisses the inside of her knee before making his way to the other thigh biting down on a spot above her knee softly and then using his tongue to soothe away the pain until she’s got a mark on her leg.  
He looks up at her, her blue eyes are dark and her chest is heaving but she smiles at him.  
“I love you.”  
He doesn't respond, tongue tied at the fact that she’s not wearing any panties.  
He looks up at her and she winks.  
“Took them off on the way back.”  
She sounds too smug for his liking so he swirling his tongue around her clit and her fingers tighten in his hair.  
“Fuck.”  
He licks into her eagerly, setting a fast pace that has Clarke moaning and thrusting her hips into his face.  
He throws a leg over his shoulder and lets the dress fall over his head hiding him from Clarke's view but she can’t complain because the leg on his shoulder opens her up more and he slips two fingers in, pumping them in and out, reaching that spot and she lets her hands touch herself, squeezing her breasts pulling at her nipple.  
She comes with a loud cry as Bellamy takes her clit in-between his lips, and slips in a third finger.  
She pulls him up for a kiss and squeals when he picks her up to throw her on the bed.  
She tells him about the dinner in between kisses and pulling off his shirt and he tells her about his day.  
She tastes like wine and he tastes like rum and when they curl up on the bed, blankets covering their naked bodies Bellamy runs hand down her side marveling at the softness of her skin.  
"I love you."  
He kisses her softly and she kisses him back but the kiss is different, it's rougher, angry and when he pulls away she's got a wicked gleam in her eye.  
"What's wrong Bellamy?"  
She twirls a strand of hair around her fingers.  
His blood runs cold.  
"No!"_

He jerks awake and rolls over to find Clarke curled up next to him.  
She's asleep, a peaceful look on her face and he hates the though of waking her up but he needs to check, he need to know that she's not Josephine.  
He shakes her shoulder.  
"Clarke?"  
"Bel-ll-amy?" She yawns, eyes half closed.  
Her voice is soft and she reaches for him but he draws away and that seems to set off her internal alarms. She sits up, facing him, eyes wide, hair a mess, the strap of her black tank top falling off her shoulder .  
"I saw... I saw her... Josephine."  
He closes his eyes remembering her smile and he can still hear her and he can feel the tears on his cheeks.  
Clarke's eyes widen and she pulls him up and towards her, half kneeling on the bed, half on his lap. She runs a hand down his spine as he cries into her neck  
"I'm real. You saved me. You saved me."  
She kisses his hair, wishing she could do more than just hold him. Some night before she goes to bed, she had to remind herself that Josephine is gone, that she can't come back and take over her body again.  


Bellamy falls asleep his head on her chest, her arms around him, his arm wrapped around her waist, her hand in his hair, stroking it softly as she whispers quietly to him.  
She tells him how scared she was seeing him like that, about how she blames herself. She tell him about the radio calls, about her time on earth- talking about Madi.  
One day when he's awake and she's brave enough she will repeat all she is saying to him, but right this is enough for her.  
His soft breaths, warm and heavy on her breast, the weight of his arm holding her close, the feel on his lips on her skin eventually lure her into a deep sleep.  


He wakes up in the morning, the blankets being tucked around them, a soft familiar whisper telling him to go back to sleep and he nuzzles Clarke's chest, his eyes drifting shut again.  
When he wakes up again, it's midday and Clarke's looking down at him, a soft smile on her faces she taps her fingers on his freckles.  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
She traces his lip scar and he closes his eyes.  
Despite the nightmare from last night, he feels at peace, safe.  
The blanket is pull over his shoulder but Clarke has the blanket folded to her waist, her black tank top having shifted in the middle of the night, she's got a birth mark on her left breast, one he has never noticed till now.  
He wants to run his tongue over it, peel her tank top off it and see if she has any other marks on her body, maybe make a few marks of his own.  
Clarke watches as Bellamy's eyes darken and the way he bites on his lip, his eyes on her chest. She runs a hand through his hair tugging his head up to look at her and she can see the want in his eyes.  
She knows she shouldn't but she nods her head at the unspoken question between them.  
His eyes light up, a boyish smile on his face and Clarke laughs but it turns into a gasp as he drags his tongue over the mark, his nose nudging the tank top out of his way. He presses a kiss over the mark before he makes his way to her nipple, tugging on it gently with his teeth, drawing out a moan before lapping his tongue over her nipple, soothing her, his hand on her other breast, thumbing her nipple into a hard point.  


He pulls her shirt off, dropping the shirt onto the bed and for a second he just stares at her.  
Large pale, with pointed rosy pink nipples, a couple scattered moles on the side of her breasts.  
She's utterly gorgeous. Clarke blushes and Bellamy realizes that he has said it out loud. He runs his hands down her sides, fingers trailing down her body and she giggles lightly and he moves to settle himself in between her legs.  
That's when the door flies open.  
Bellamy drops down, covering her with his body and Clarke's nails dig into his shoulder as she glares at Miller.  
Miller raises an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face.  
"Madi punched another kid."  
He leaves the room and Bellamy sighs, dropping his head into the crook of her neck, his sigh ruffling her hair and ticking her skin.  
Neither will admit it but Miller interrupting them was a good thing, Bellamy wasn't ready yet and Clarke wanted, needed to take things slow. 

* * *

The air smells clean, light.  
He can smell the rain from what must have been an early morning shower. Its nothing like his room, his cell and it serves as a reminder that this is real.  
He takes a deep breathe, closing his eyes, letting the breathe sink into his skin, grounding him, the way Gabriel had taught him. 

It's been a few months since Clarke had come for him and while he's doing better there are some days when this all feels like a dream.  
He's reassumed a few of his duties in Sanctum, attending meetings with Clarke but he's also looking forward to teaching at the school the start of the new school year, (Madi is just as excited but that might be because she's hoping he will go easy on her.) He and Gabriel had talked about him leaving his guard duties and settling into a job that would make him happy and he had agreed with the idea.  
The time for war was over, Clarke had made sure of it and they were all determined to live in peace and for Bellamy that meant reading books, spending time with Clarke and the others and being honest with Gabriel.

After his and Clarke's moment, he had spiraled downward, the nightmare returning with a vengeance and he slept very little if not at all, creeping out of Clarke's bed, not wanting to worry her or pressure her. Clarke hadn't made a move on him after their moment and he took it as a rejection, her not wanting his broken self.  
He of course had no idea that Clarke had taken his leaving their bed as rejection and they had fought about him moving into his own room.  
That was when the others go involved, having had noticed the dark circle under his and Clarke's eyes and the little that he ate so he had been given two options- talk to Jackson or talk to Gabriel.  
He chose Gabriel.  


Talking to the man was not something he expected to enjoy.  
Gabriel had a way of making it feel comfortable.  
Gabriel aways insisted on going for walks, talking about fresh air and building strength on his leg and they would talk as they did, sometimes watching Picasso run ahead of them.  
They talked about what he saw and about his nightmares and Gabriel had helped him come up with ways to ground himself into reality.  
So when he had nightmares, Gabriel had given him a mantra to recite to remind himself that it was all real.  
_I'm home. I'm safe. I'm loved. I'm home._  
They talk about what makes Bellamy feel safe- Clarke, Picasso, the weight and warmth of the cardigan. Gabriel gifts him two new cardigans and Gabriel (and Clarke and Madi) looks into teaching Picasso how to calm Bellamy when he has a panic attack. Bellamy had sobbed when Madi had sat him down, Clarke's hand in his as she explained what she had taught Picasso. Picasso had nudged his hand and Bellamy had pet her tears on his cheeks, a smile on his lips.  


Gabriel had also found him some notebooks so he can write down his thoughts, so he can track his progress and keep a history of himself, of what happened, who he is, so at night in bed, while Clarke draws he write.  


He and Gabriel and Clarke had a long talk about their relationship and what they wanted from each other.  
Somehow telling his best friend that he was in love with her was not as scary as it seemed. When he had uttered the words to her, her shoulders had relaxed and she had wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his neck, a muffled "I love you" that made him hug her tighter, lifting her off the ground slightly.  
The three of them talked about forgiveness and what they had done to and for the other, that had been a heavy day- a lot of yelling and crying and hugging.  


Gabriel also had him work on his relationships with other people. He and the others guys (and Clarke when she's not busy) go for a run at least twice a week.  
It's not easy. Jordan is the only one of them who can actually run without breaking a sweat. Murphy complains but he always makes sure they have something to eat after their run. Gabriel lags behind with him and Miller, who is there to help if his leg starts to ache.  


He and Octavia spend time sewing. She tears apart Josephine's old clothes determined to make things for them that suit them more (she takes great glee in tearing apart Josephine's robe and making it into a skirt and shirt after Clarke had told her she remembered Josephine wearing laughing as she painted and sung in French, her hands shaking as she grasped the robe in her hands, eyes dark.) Some days they sit on the porch, needles in hands, talking as they work, other days they sit in silence, letting Madi's laughter and Indra's voice wash over them. It's not easy and Gabriel has them hash it out with him a couple of times but they are doing better, she's his sister, not his responsibility.  
He's not completely better and he isn't sure if he ever will be Gabriel tells him it will take time but he's doing better. He's happy.  
And he deserves that happiness.  
Waking up to Clarke, seeing her- blonde hair strewn on his pillow, her arms around him, soft snores coming from her lips, seeing her blue eyes look at him sleepy, it something that fills his heart with happiness.  
He loves her.  
He loves her a lot.  
The timing is not ideal but waking up to her, having her brush a kiss to his forehead, its enough for now.  
They have time and Clarke had made her willingness to wait vocal with a soft kiss to his lips and a talk with Gabriel who reminds him that he's allowed to he happy.

He settles hismelf on the swing and opens the book.  
He loses himself in the intricacies of the human brain and is the middle of learning about how memory work when something nudges his leg.  
He raises the book and looks down to find Picasso sitting at his feet.  
“Hi buddy.”  
He leans to scratch behind her ears and she jumps her paws in his lap and he laughs as he drops his book to properly give her attention and that’s how Madi finds her.  
“Picasso!”  
Picasso turns from Bellamy and takes off at a run to run circles around Madi and her two friends.  
He smiles as Madi’s laugh fills the air and her two friends join in.  
He stands up, hands clenching the porch railing as he watches Madi’s bag fall to the floor and the way she runs, Picasso and her friends following her.  
She’s looks happy, young and it hurts him to think that he took that from her.  
She shouldn't have the weight of the commander on her and even though she and announced that she wants to take the flame out (hence his book) he has been consumed with guilt about what he has done ti Madi. Madi may have forgiven him but he hasn't forgive himself.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize that Clarke is home from her meeting with Jackson and Gabriel and Raven, who have been talking to Gaia about how to remove the flame properly.  
She sees the faraway look in his eyes and she can pretty much feel the wave of guilt rolling off as Madi and her friends run round, kicking a soccer ball between them.  
She walks over to him to wrap her arm around his waist propping herself up on toes to rest her chin on his shoulder, one hand on his heart.  
Bellamy’s hand covers Clarke's as she hugs him.  
“I took this from her.”  
Clarke presses her lip to his shoulder firmly.  
“I forgive you.”  
“How can you?”  
“Because she’s alive. She's alive and laughing and has friends and that’s all I ever wanted for her...That's all I want for her."  
Thy stand there on the porch watching the kids play and as some other kids join them, Clarke tugs on his hand, pulling him towards the swing. Clarke curls up next to him, head on his shoulder as she sits in his lap, her hand in his as he sways them softly, the kids laughter filling the air.  
Clarke plays with his fingers, as he looks out to watch the kids, always the worrier.  
"You're my family."  
She presses her lips to his knuckles snd he raise her hand to his lips, "And you are mine."  
He looks into her blue eyes that remind him of the sky on earth and he lets out a breathe. _I'm home. I'm safe. I'm loved. I'm home_ Clarke gaps into his mouth and he pulls away worry flooding his senses but her hand tugs on his shirt and she brings him to her, kissing him firmly, her hand sliding to the back of his neck. When they break away, smiles on their faces she presses a kiss to his jaw, then to the scar on his lip and he kisses her mole and her nose and she laughs it's the most beautiful sound in the world.  
"I love you."  
He takes that back, her laugh is beautiful but his favorite thing in the world is when she says that she loves him.  


Clarke won’t describe the sound that Bellamy is making as she runs her fingers through his hair as purring but it’s close enough.  
He’s smiling, no lines on his face, and it makes her feel good.  
He’s been doing better, the nightmares are still there and still bad but they are not as frequent and now instead of having to remind him that she’s real several times she only has to remind him twice and now he reaches for her first, burying his hand into her hair reassuring himself that she’s real and she nuzzles and kiss his neck, muttering that she loves him.  
She chases the really really bad nights away, with kisses and a slow grind of her hips, lips trailing on his skin.  
Talking with Gabriel is doing him wonders and Clarke is happy that he is talking to Gabriel, after seeing how much better he is doing she had approached Gabriel herself and they had set up their own times for a one on one talk- usually in the evening while Bellamy is reading Madi a story, twice a week. 

Bellamy lets out a soft whine, opening his eyes and she realizes that she has stopped running her fingers through his hand and resumes her task. He lets out a content sigh and Clarke studies him, he looks better, not as sleep deprived or pale as before. He looks healthy, having regained the weight he lost while he was taken.  
Most important, he looks happy and well loved.  
It's been a year and things are different.  
Murphy and Emori have gotten married and Gabriel and Octavia have gotten closer. Miller is now the proud owner of two chicken. Raven, Jordan, Nilyah, and Gaia have all made friends and in some cases have found signfina others among the miners or people of Sanctum. Madi loves being at school she loves her friends, her classes, she especially loves her teacher. Indra thrives under being the leader, with Madi stepping down Indra has risen, with Clarke by her side, although she has been considering taking a step away from the leadership and spending more time at home.  
Spending more time with Bellamy.  
It sounds silly but she has been looking into what else she can do besides lead and it had been Bellamy who had joked that she could practice medicine or that she could teach with him and she likes that idea, talking to Jackson about teaching a basic healing class and doing art with Madi and the other kids.  
Clarke looks for a second as she hears Madi scream and Bellamy tenses, already pushing himself up but it's only Jordan who has picked Madi up, spinning her around so Gaia could steal the soccer ball from her.  
It's a scream of joy, Madi laughing as Jordan smiles, bright and wide and he reminds her so much of Monty and Harper that it hurts.  
They would have loved this.  
Everyone gathered around on spme blankets, laughter in the air, surrounded by peace.  
Clarke pushes Bellamy's head back down to her lap gently, her voice soft.  
"Madi's safe. Madi's safe."  
He nods, and closes his eyes and she leans down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, when she sits up she catches Gabriel eyes and she jerks her head to Octavia who is running after Jordan, determined to score a point for Madi's team. Gabriel blushes and Clarke grins as Bellamy nuzzled her leg and she rolls her eyes resuming her fingers in his hair.  
He still wears a cardigan everywhere (except for when the day are really really hot) but Gabriel has been more than willing to donate a few more of his cardigans to the cause of keeping Bellamy warm and safe and most important cozy.  
Today’s he’s wearing a lighter colored cardigan, and he's in a good mood, no nightmares.  


She had woken up that morning, with his head in between her legs, his fingers gripping her leg as her hands tugging on his soft dark curls, heels pressing into the mattress as his tongue laps her up.  
It's not a bad way to wake up or a bad day to celebrate.  
She whispers "Happy Birthday" as he kisses her, the taste of herself only serving to make her even wetter.  
"Happy Birthday to me."  
He trails his mouth down her jaw and neck, scraping his teeth along her collarbone, swirling his tongue over her nipple, mouthing at her through her shirt, until she pulls him back up to her lips for a kiss, teeth clashing.  
She pushes him off her and his eyes widen as she swings a leg over him. He groans as she drags her wet cunt over him, teasing him. He jerks his hips up and Clarke giggles.  
"Please..."  
She places both hands on his shoulders, teasing his cock, dragging her folds over him, coating him, a smirk on her pink lips as his hands grip her hips, trying not to succumb to her teasing.  
Clarke kisses him as she sinks down, both of them moaning into the other's mouth, trying not to wake up the rest of the house.  
Clarke rides him slowly, letting him sink into her deeply as she mutters in his ear at how good he sounds and about how much she loves him.  
Bellamy's hands trail from her hips to her ass, squeezing her ass, trying to coax her into a faster pace as he mutters in her ear about how much he loves her and how she's the best present he could want for his birthday.  
Clarke likes it when he praises her and she makes sure to praise him as much as she can because she knows he likes it just as much (but also because Bellamy Blake deserves all the love and praise in the world and she takes pride in watching his cheeks darken with embarassment at her praise.)  


If she had it her way, she and Bellamy would spend his birthday in bed, just the two of them, and then have dinner with Madi, the three of them, four counting Picasso curling under blankets for a story at the end of the evening but Octavia and Madi wanted to celebrate properly, so a backyard picnic it was.  
But there are worst ways to spend his birthday and a happy, clean-shaven, more affectionate, softer Bellamy with his head in her lap is all she could ever want.  
She's happy too, surrounded by friends and family, her best friend and the man she loves safe and happy in her lap.

* * *

One of Bellamy's favorite things to do is go for walks with Clarke, Madi, and Picasso, just the four of them.  
He and Clarke walk hand in hand, Madi, and Picasso ahead of them, never too far but far enough that Madi doesn't have to see Clarke press a random kiss to his jaw or see him duck his head to whisper into her ear.  
Today's walk is a bit more special than usual.  
Miller and Jackson has announced a few weeks ago that they were planning on getting married and it had made Clarke and Bellamy question what they wanted and saw in their own futures.  
They saw each other of course, living together and being happy.  
But if Clarke was honest she didn't see the point in waiting or getting married and having the full cermony.  
Bellamy was her everything- her best friend, her partner, ler co-leader, her soulmate.  
On the ark, marriage was a paper signifing that they were together.  
Clarke knew from Indra, that on the ground, marriage was a union that meant you would die for your partner and honor them with your life but she and Bellamy had died and lived for the other already.  
In every sense of it, she and Bellamy were already married and had been for a long long time.  
It was time to make it official.  
"Madi! Picasso!"  
Madi turns and jogs toward them as Clarke waves her back for them to go back home.  
They sit on the front porch, Clarke curled in Bellamy's arms as Madi sketches in her book, the young girl glancing up at them, and Clarke smiles as Bellamy's fingers tap her arm.  
She turns to cup his face and kisses him softly, reassuring him.  
They had made the decison to tell Madi that morning about thier engagement.  
Bellamy didn't want to wait any longer.  
Clarke had proposed to him the night before and she didn't see the point in waiting because for all intent and purposes, they were married.  
_Clarke's already curled up in when he comes in from telling Madi a story. Despite being almost fourteen, Madi is never too old for a bedtime story. She insists on them every night, saying that she needed to catch up on the six years she had missed out on his story.  
He loves those moments with Madi, her eyes droopy fighting sleep as she insists on hearing his story, no matter how late it is or tired she is.  
Clarke's in his blue Henley and he smiles thinking of how he wore it on the ring to remember her and here she is, wearing it, blonde hair curling around her face, in a messy braid. She's got a book propped up on her stomach and the sight fills him with so much love.  
She peers at him over her book and he smiles at her in the sight of his glasses.  
All those years had caught up to them, his knee still hurts and Gabriel had been nice enough to fidn him a pair of glasses and Raven had plans to make Clarke a pair but for now they shared his pair.  
"Hi." He climbs into bed and curls into a ball, his head on her lap and Clarke runs a hand through his hair. "What's on your mind?"  
"Jackson and Miller... it''s just so surreal you know. We did it, we are at peace and people are happy and getting married. I just..."  
"Never saw it happening?"  
He laughs and Clarke looks down at him, his hair is longer, messy as ever, he's sporting more freckles from his days out in the sun working in their little garden, the line in between his eyes promiment as he struggles to find the words to say.  
She runs her fings over the line and his eyes open, soft, warm, and she places her book down and nudges him off her lap.He lays his head on his pillow and she scoots under the blankets and turns to face him.  
His hand automatically reaches for her, playing with her fingers, studying them and Clarke wonders if he is thinking about a ring.  
"It's just that we have spent so much time searching for peace and I know we found it but, this, them, god Clarke, our people are safe. So what now? Don't get me wrong I love teaching and I love you but there's this part of me that..."  
"Still can't believe it's real?"  
He raises his fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.  
"I know you are real, it's more like I can't believe that I..."  
"That we..."  
He lets out a little huff at her interuption but she scoots closer to him, her toes skimming his leg and it makes him smile.  
"I can't believe that we are here, that we did it. I can't believe we deserve this."  
Clarke blinks back tears. She knows what he means. Some days the guilt is bad.  
"But we do. We deserved this. "  
She pulls her hand away to cup his jaw, fingers brushing his scar.  
"I love you. And I wouldn't change anything if if meant that I would lose this, if I would lose you."  
She kisses him softly and one of his hands slides under her shirt and pulls her closer him, his large palm on her back, warming her to the core.  
When she pulls away he moves toward her, pressing his forehead aganist hers, a content smile on his face.  
It fills her with so much happiness.  
Happiness looks good on Bellamy.  
"I think we should get married."  
Clarke pulls away to watche Bellamy's face.  
His eyes widen and his lips part and she has to blink back tears at the tear that slips from his eye.  
"You want to marry me?"  
He sounds so surprised and Clarke surges foward to kiss him, needing him to know how much she loves him. He kisses her back, his hands weaving into her hair and she hitches a leg over his waist and when he pulls away, he's smiling so wide and her smile matches him as she's overwhelmed by how happy she looks that she misses his "yes."  
When it registers in her mind she laughs, "Yes?"  
"Yes!"  
He rolls over, pinning her under him and her legs wrap around his waist pulling his pelvis down aganist her, she can feel him hard aganist her.  
He brushes a strand of hair away from her face and presses a kiss to her forehead then her nose then to mole then on her cheekbones and she lets her hands tangle in his hair as he finally kisses her.  
When he pulls away his lips are swollen, his eyes are bright, and she giggles as he shifts to lay next to her, wrapping an arm around her, nuzzling her neck as she turns to face him. "How long do you want to wait?"  
Bellamy sighs, "I don't want a big thing."  
"Good neither do I."  
"Something small, cozy."  
Clarke nods running a hand through his soft curly hair.  
"It's just us making what we and everyone else know already..."  
"That you're mine?"  
He nips at the side of her breast and Clarke closes her eyes. "That we are partners in every sense of the world, this is just us making it official."  
She reaches for his shirt, intent of pulling it off when he draws away, a smirk on his face. "Nope..."  
"No?"  
"No-pe. Not until we are married."  
Clarke raises an eyebrow but she can tell he is serious.  
"Okay but can we at least cuddle?"  
Bellamy turns his back to her and Clarke wraps her arms around him and kisses the back of his neck.  
"Good night, I love you."  
He squeezes her hand.  
"I love you more."  
_

Madi looks at them.  
"You are being weird."  
"We wanted to talk to you about something."  
Madi looks worried and Clarke reaches for her hand to reassure her.  
"Nothing bad, I hope.. it's just..."  
"Your mom asked me to marry her."  
Clarke can feel Bellamy's arm tense around her as they watch Madi's reaction.  
Her eyes widen looking at them, and Clarke can see a tear in the corner of her eye and then Madi dives into their lap, laughing, her arms wrapping around them both, squeezing them hard.  
Clarke can't make out the words that are spilling out of Madi's mouth but her excitement is evident.  
Picasso ends up joining in on the group and Bellamy falls backward, Clarke and Madi tumbling down with him, all of them laughing.  


That night Madi insists on them both telling her a bedtime story, Picasso at the edge bed, despite Clarke's firm no- she couldn't say no to both Bellamy and Madi's puppy eyes.  
She runs a hand through her daughter's hair as Bellamy talks, her eyes on him as he looks at Madi softly.  
Clarke's heart jumps as Bellamy pulls the blanket over Madi and presses a kiss to her forehead and Clarke does the same. They stand at the doorway watching her sleep and Clarke tucks herself into his side and he presses a kiss to the side of her head.  
"I wanna marry you soon."  
He mutters it into her hairline.  
She rises to her toes and kisses his jaw, before she leans into to whisper into his ear.  
"I would marry you tomorrow if we could."  
"What if we could? Why wait?"  
Clarke pulls away to look at him and then tugs him out of Madi's doorframe, pulling him towards thier room.  
"You want to marry me tomorrow?"  
"I mean not tomorrow, but soon."  
She can't help but tease him, "How soon? What happened to waiting till marriage?"  
"I just don't want to wait a year to marry you."  
Clarke kisses him, arms around his neck, body pressed aganist his as she backs him up against the wall.  


They ask Indra the next day is she could perform a ceremony for them. (With Clarke asking her how soon they could do it- ignoring Bellamy's smirk. Despite his insistence on wanting to marry her soon, he had put the stops to them having sex last night, wanting them to wait. Clarke knew he was doing it on purpose to drive her mad with lust but she figured she could get her revenge once they were actually married.)  


They invite everyone over for dinner a week later, it was the shortest amount of time they could wait and still get things planned out.  
Octavia and Indra had been cooking up a storm with Murphy who had been roped into cooking by Madi.  
Clarke smoothes out her light blue dress fingers shaking. Octavia had been told the news and earlier that morning she had dropped off a light blue dress for her to wear and with a blush on her face, she had dropped off some other things for her.  
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as the door open.  
"Wow."  
Bellamy's staring at her with what she can only describe as adoration. He strolls into the room and before she can ever say hi, he's cupping her face and kissing her hard. Her hands clench his shirt brining him closer and he lets go of her face to runs his hands down her shoulders and sides and over her back, pulling her closer, running his hands down to her ass, his hands lifting the back of the dress up until she pushes at his chest, stopping him.  
Her chest is heaving as is his and his eyes are on her tits and Clarke has to take a step back and a breath as his eyes meets her, slowly.  
"One hour until I'm your wife."  
Bellamy looks as wrecked as she feels, but he also looks as excited as she does.  
His hand reaches for her and after a moment's deliberation she takes his hand as he wraps her into a hug.  
"One hour until I'm your husband."  
There's a knock at the door and they break away to find Madi there, dressed a her won dress, bouncing on her toes.  
"Everyone is here!"  
Clarke looks at Bellamy, he's dressed in a button up shirt, sleeves rolled up Octavia had found and then her eyes widen.  
No cardigan.  
She squeezes his hand and taps on his wrist and as they head out to join the others, he taps on her wrist.  
_I love you_  
Octavia plops two flower crowns on their heads as soon as she sees them and Clarke laughs as Bellamy hugs his sister, whispers passing between them.  
Murphy is staring at them, a suspicious look on his face.  
"You two look awfully dressed up."  
Indra clicks her tongue as Gaia enters with Emori.  
"Don't let my soup burn, I will be back."  


The five of them- Clarke, Bellamy,Indra, Madi, and Octavia head to a spot that Madi had picked out. It's faraway that no one will stumble upon it, and beautiful, full of colorful flowers.  
Perfect for a wedding.  
The sun is setting and Indra nods at them to join hands.  
Bellamy lifts her hand to his lips kissing her wrist as they look at each other.  
It's short and sweet with Indra talking about what it means to be united as one and what a partnership should look like.  
Clarke has her parent's rings and she slips her father's ring onto Bellamy's, her hand squeezing his and she looks at him.  
She takes him in, dark curly hair, the constellation of freckles on his face, the scar above his lip, the softeness of his eyes, the strength in his hands, the love in his eyes.  
"Bellamy, you are my partner, my co-leader, my best friend, the man I called for six years on a radio, the man I loved for centuries. The man who brought me back, and saw me as more than a princess. You came to see me an equal, you shoulder the worries I had, you would have carried the weight of the world if I asked. You put your trust in me, wrote my name down on a list when I couldn't, I have died and lived for you. You are my heart, my soulmate. You are the best person I know and I want to spend my mornings watching you read and my evening listening to you tells stories."  


"Clarke, the first time we laid eyes on each other, you were telling me that the air could be toxic, little did we know that the air would be the least of our problems. But through it all- from trying to keep the hundred alive to dealing with the Grounders and the Mountain Men, to the end of the world, to a new planet you were by my side, together. Even when we weren't physically together, you were still there, in my heart. You saw something in me that no one else did, you gave me forgiveness when I needed it most, love when I thought I didn't deserve it. I spent enough time without you in my arms to know that I want to spend eons with you, Clarke Griffin. You are my best friend, my co-leader, the head to my heart, the owner of my heart, my soulmate."  
By the end of Bellamy's vows even Indra is in tears.  


The others are very much surprised when they get back home and in a few cases upset that they didn't get to go to which Bellamy told them their options were to be be happy and stay or be upset and leave.  
That settles them down.  
Madi and Octavia sit down on the blanket, ready to start eating.  
Bellamy sits down and Clarke goes to sit next to him but Bellamy pulls Clarke onto his lap, his hands on her waist and she laughs pressing a kiss to his jaw, settling aganist his chest.  
She's happy, so so happy.  


Bellamy can't believe this is real, not because he has doubts but because he never thought that he and Clarke would find peace long enough to be able to do this.  
Her ring keeps catching his eye and he can't help but press a kiss to her shoulder, or her hand, or her neck, or her cheek, whenever she laughs or kisses him back because he's so happy that his head is spinning.  


* * *

Clarke laughs, her arms around his neck. Bellamy had scooped her up in his arms just before they entered the house.  
"Bellamy!"  
He takes quick steps to their room, dropping her onto her bed but she tugs him down with her, legs on either side of his hips.  
He props himself up on his forearms to look down at her, he ducks a curl behind her ear.  
"Hi."  
She smiles up at him, giddy.  
"Hi."  
She curls a hand around his neck, letting her nails scrape aganist the back of his neck and he groans, leaning down to brush her lips.  
Clarke parts her lips, deepening the kiss, moaning as Bellamy pulls away to press kisses down her jaw to the curve of her neck and to nip at her collarbone. She arches her back pressing her chest aganist his and she can feel him laugh against her breast and he nudges her dress with her nose.  
He props his head up on her stomach, the flower crown in his hair crooked, and he looks so beautiful, a smile on his face that reaches his eyes and a ring on his hands that tells everyone that he is hers (not that the world needed the reminder, Bellamy Blake has always been hers and she has always been his) and she combs a hand through his curls.  
"I love you."  
The words seem to make him glow and the room seems brighter and Clarke vows to spend every moment she can loving Bellamy Blake.  


Bellamy's dreams are nothing compared to the real thing.  
Clarke is warmer, softer, real.  
She is his.  
There is so many things he wants to do with Clarke, so many ways and places he wants to kiss her, to love her.  
The blue dress, a shade of blue that is a bit darker than her eyes is the second most beautiful shade of blue he has seen, (the first being her eyes).  
She's beautiful, blue dress, white flower crown in her hair, ring on her finger.  
He pulls away from her fingers and makes his way down to between her legs.  
Clarke props herself up on her elbows and Bellamy pushes her dress up, kissing his way up her leg, getting closer to her panties.  
He noses her slit through the wet fabric and Clarke moans.  
Bellamy smirks at her and then he's moving the fabric over and licking a stripe up to her clit and Clarke falls back, her head hitting the pillow.  
He gently removes her panties and places one leg over his shoulder, and nudging the other leg over until he's nestled in between her legs, broad shoulders spreading her to his gaze.  
Clarke raises her head to look at him, his hair is a mess, his eyes are dark, and he's looks up with her boyish smirk. He kisses her stomach and she threads her fingers through his hair.  
He groans in appreciation as she tugs on the strands and moves down to nip at her thigh before his mouth hovers her cunt.  
Clarke Griffin is the most gorgeous woman in the world, there isn't one part of her that isn't exquisite and her cunt is no exception.  
He licks a stripe down her cunt and Clarke arches off the bed.  
She's sensitive, having been excited and looking forward to this for the past few hours.  
Bellamy seems intent on driving her wild, he licks her slowly, teasingly, circling her clit with his tongue before diving back to her folds, burying his face as she grinds against it. His hands cup her ass, raising her off the bed, two fingers pumping in and out, and he wraps his mouth on her clit and Clarke comes as he crooks his fingers and he groans against her cunt as her hands pulled on his hair.  
He looks up, face wet with her juices, and a huge smile on his face.  
Clarke pulls him him up towards her for a kiss and he kisses her lazily, one hand bracing himself on the mattress the other cupping her face. She wraps her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair.  
When they break away, Clarke tugs on his shirt,"Off. Pants too."  
Bellamy shrugs off his shirt and tosses his flower crown onto the dresser while Clarke places her on the table. She's reaches for the zipper on her dress but stops when she feels Bellamy's hand on her back.  
He gently pulls the zipper down, sending shivers down her spine as he presses a kiss on her neck and then as he makes his way down her spine and stopping when Clarke pushes the dress off her shoulders and it falls.  
Clarke removes her bra and he pulls his pants off and then Clarke turns around and he places her hands on his chest.  
"Hi."  
He kisses her softly, his hand on her waist. She pushes him onto the bed and wrap her hand around his cock. She pumps him a few times before she sinks to her knees.  
Bellamy Blake is beautiful and so is his cock.  
It's a beautiful brown color with a dusting of freckles, it's thick and long her small hand barely reaching around.  
She licks the tip, circling it before licking a stripe down to his balls, sucking one into her mouth, her other hand pumping his dick. She can hear him moaning and he threads a hand in her hair as she releases it from her mouth. She kisses the tip of his cock, eyes meeting his as she wraps her lips around it and he moans her name, "Fuck, Clarke. You look so pretty."  
She doesn't respond, too busy bobbing her head, taking as much of him down her throat as possible.  
He tightens his grip on her hair, as she does so, and Clarke is filled with happiness as Bellamy's praises reaches her ears.  
"You look so pretty baby."  
"Your mouth feel so good around me."  
"Fuck Clarke.."  
"My wife, my beautiful wife."  
She can tell he is close when he gets louder and all he can say in her name.  
His voice is low and utterly wrecked.  
She increases her pace, bobbing her head faster, taking him deeper, her hand wrapped around the part that she can't fit in her mouth and reaches to cup one of his balls, giving it a gentle squeeze and he comes with a low moan, her name spilling from his lips.  
She swallows him as she hears a thump as he falls backs onto the bed.  


When she crawls onto the bed, he smiles blissfully at her and she smiles back,big and wide and she's sure they must look like love-struck fools. She straddles him, leaning to nudge her nose against his before she kisses him lazily. A few minutes later, he rolls them over and kisses her fiercely, a knee in-between her legs and she grinds against him.  
Eventually, Bellamy's lips makes their way to her neck and he lines himself up.  
Clarke's nails dig into his arms and she buries her head into the crook of his neck as he slides into her with a single smooth thrust.  
He kisses her hair as she wraps a pale leg around his waist, matching his every thrust, raising her hips to meet his.  
He reaches for her other leg to wrap around his waist and Clarke presses her lips to his neck. He moans as she focuses her attention on a spot on his collarbone her hands roaming his back, she can feel the scars, the muscles, his spine, he's here in her arms.  
He kisses her lips, then the mole on the corner of her lips and she laughs, bright and loud, happy.  
Kissing Clarke is what he imagines happiness to taste like, it's joy, pure simple joy.  
"I love you."  
She cups his face, her ring cold on his face and he turns his head to kiss her palm and Clarke lets out a soft gasp and she pulls him closer, panting in his ear.  
"Your my husband... my partner... my soulmate..."  
He fills her up, her cunt tight around him, and every thrust sends a shiver down her spine, and he's muttering into her hair as he picks up speed.  
"Mine."  
Bellamy comes with a muffled moan in her hair as she whispers the word to him and she follows him, off the edge, clenching around his pulsing cock.  
He pulls out and rolls out and she raises her legs in the air and he watches her, fondly.  
"My wife."  


* * *

Clarke finds Bellamy curled up under the tree, Madi next to him, and in his lap, a boy with dark curls and a smattering of freckles on his face, his blue eyes are focused on the book in Bellamy's hands as Bellamy reads to them.  
His voice deepens and then rises, changing with the character and the event in the story making Gus laugh and Madi grin.  
The sight of her family makes her smile and she places a hand on her stomach, her bump visible under her (Bellamy's) blue shirt, his cardigan wrapped around her body.  
"And they were happy."  
Gus claps his hands and Madi shakes her head, "You're such a sap."  
"Blame your mother."  
"Nah, you always have been. You're the heart."  
Bellamy's laughs is deep, and happy, so happy.  
He's doing better.  
His nightmares are almost gone, his last one was when she announced she was pregnant with Gus, about four years ago, he woken up crying, his hands pulling her towards him, making sure she, that their baby, that this life was real.  
He still talks to Gabriel, they both do but it's good for the both of them.  


But he's doing better. He's happy, his guilt is gone.  
He loves teaching, and Clarke enjoys visiting his classroom during lunch time to spend time with him and if possible steal his cardigan.  
She enjoys their walks or them curling up on the porch, his hands on her belly as he whispers in her ear.  
She loves him.  
"Daddy's my heart."  
She kneels down despite Bellamy's protest and Gus scrambles out of his father's lap laughing and he reaches for her to hug her. She presses a kiss to his hair meeting Bellamy's eyes.  
Gus then pulls away to press a kiss to her stomach where Athena and Aurora are.  
"Hi."  
Clarke brushes a stray curl out of his face.  
"Indra made cookies."  
Madi laughs and holds out her hands to Gus, "Let's get cookies!"  
She scoops him out and they take off on a run and Clarke scoots closer to Bellamy who wraps his arm around her, hands on her belly, chin on her shoulder.  
"Hey Princess."  
She reaches into her pocket, "Cookie."  
He takes the napkin from her and they eat in silence, one of his hands rubbing her belly.  
The tree they are under gives them a perfect view of the sunset and Clarke nestles against his chest, pulling his cardigan tighter as they sit there, their kids laughters in the air, the smell of the food from the kitchen where there family is, the fluttering in her belly where two more additions to the family are growing.  


She's happy, happier than she's ever been.  
Bellamy's here, he's home.  
He's her home.  
He's really here.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been the end of this.  
> They are happy and in love and soulmates and they always will be.  
> Thank you for reading and your kind comments.  
> all my love to y'all.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: It's revealed that Bellamy is being controlled and is having dreams of Clarke, where everything seems to be real only for him to wake up and realize it's not and it's a neverending cycle. He's happy with Clarke and then miserable when he realizes it's not real. Bardo sprays some knockout gas and inject him with something to make him have the dreams over and over as they monitor him. 
> 
> i didn't go into too much detail because this was supposed to be more smut that anything but I just wanted to make this clear in case anyone had any questions.
> 
> I hoped you liked this!


End file.
